


A Real Father

by winters_void



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Father-Daughter Relationship, Geralt is a good dad, Minor death, Other, Violence, fluff at the end, pouty teens, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winters_void/pseuds/winters_void
Summary: Geralt of Rivia saves a young girl from certain death at the age of 6, nearly a decade later they return to her home village and run into her biological father; the one she begged not to go back to.
Relationships: Geralt of Rivia & Daughter OC, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	A Real Father

Geralt found his heart pounding in his ears. He watched as the Striga fell to the ground, shriveling up and dying. It had curled around itself in a fetal position, protecting itself in it's final moments. He realized sadly that there was no saving this cursed being, anyone who knew anything was dead or 100's of miles away and before he found answers this whole town would be dead. It had almost killed half of them anyways.He'd already been paid so he needed to finish the job. As his potion wore off and he felt his eyes return to normal, he heard whimpering coming from one of the rooms and looked around confused. 

As he walked around a corner and into a corridor he heard a young girls cries get louder and louder each passing second. "Mama!" A young voice squeaked. He entered the room from which the cries were coming from. A young girl was sobbing over the body of a woman who was presumably the mother she was crying out for. "Mama wake up!" 

Geralt slowly entered, trying to not startle the girl as much as possible. The girl heard him and turned around quickly. "Sir! Help my mama! The king made us come in here, please help!" " Even from where he stood he knew there was no helping this girls mother."Still, he knelt down on the other side of her body and felt for a pulse. Already knowing the answer he sighed looking at the girl. 

"I'm sorry." Geralt told her watching as the young girls eyes grew larger and filled with more tears. That's when the floodgates broke and the girl began to wail. Despite being the mere age of 6 the girl knew what his tone of voice and choice of words meant. He put a gentle hand on the girls back and she fell into his arms. "Why did the king make you come here?" 

"My mama stole some bread to feed us." The girl whimpered into his chest. "We haven't eaten in days and he punished us." 

Geralt felt his blood boil. He knew the king of this place was a no good piece of shit. He took a deep breath before helping the girl to her feet. "Where's your father?" 

"Please don't make me go to him." She spoke, visible fear appearing on her face. He reached up to scratch the back of his neck and the girl visibly flinched. It was that moment he noticed how underneath all the dirt and grime on her skin were bruises ranging in various shades of purple. On her neck there was a scar going up to her cheek and down to her collar bone. It was a shiny pink meaning it was fairly new and healing. "Please." She whimpered. 

He felt his shoulders tense up and he looked up at the sky taking in a deep breath. He knew he'd never let this girl go back to her father, based off of the condition she was in now; starving, bruised and smaller than the average six year old he'd just be sending her to her death. Especially with her mother dead, this girl was surely about to receive every beating her mother would get. 

"I won't." He spoke gruffly. "We should bury your mother. Then we'll figure out what to do with you." 

The young girl nodded wiping away a tear before looking towards her mother. She was bloody and had some organs missing. She closed her eyes knowing this image of her mother would be engraved in her mind forever. She had protected her daughter with her dying breath from this Striga. Part of her blamed herself for them being here in the first place. The young girl had been complaining about being hungry for a long time. In an act of desperation her mother stole a loaf of bread and block of cheese. They'd been caught and the King sent them to be food for the Striga. 

"Can it be under a tree?" The girl sniffled. "She'd always tell me stories under trees." 

"Sure." He grunted, he hoisted the girls mother into his arms gently holding her in a bridal carry and led the girl outside. Roach was tied to a tree branch, gently he set the girls mother down and hoisted the girl onto roach. "I'll bury her. Roach will keep you company"

"Thank you-" The girl paused realizing she didn't know this silver-haired mans name.

"Geralt." He told her and she nodded. 

"I'm Rielah" She told him. "Thank you for burying her." 

Geralt only nodded and picked up her mother once more. He went a little ways away to a suitable tree and buried the girls mother in a peaceful place, he gently lowered her into the ground and covered her back up with dirt before placing a yellow flower on top of the fresh grave. When he returned back to the girl she was petting Roach's mane lazily. Looking back at her, her pale skin was streaked with red from her tears and her hair was disheveled.

The road was no place for a child, but possibly he could find somewhere that would take good care of her somewhere along the way. For now though, he supposed she could stay with him. 

____

If someone had told him nearly a decade ago that he would be taking care of a teenage girl he would have laughed in their face. But now, watching as Rielah pouted in the booth of the tavern they were staying at he realized that she was technically his responsibility and had been for quite a while. It was quite obvious that the young girl had grown on him over time, and he loved her as he would his own daughter. 

"Stop that." He mumbled sitting down next to her with a drink in his hand. The girl only glared at him before turning to face the bar again. 

"Stop what?" She asked coyly. 

"Pouting." Geralt scolded and Rielah only huffed again. "You're staying at the inn while I hunt this Selkimore." 

"Fine." Rielah spoke adjusting herself so that her back was facing him. Ever since they had arrived in this dreadful little village Rielah had been off. She was moody and irritable and didn't seem to want to be left alone for more than a minute. 

Ever since the girl had joined him on his journeys he'd made it clear that she would be safer wherever they were as far away from the monsters he was fighting as possible. When she was little he did his best to find someone to take care of her but it was blatantly obvious the girl had become his daughter and he didn't trust anyone when it came to her wellbeing. He watched as she picked at the meal he bought her and he shook his head. 

"May I go back to the room then?" She asked 

"As long as you stay put." Geralt said nodding and by the time he got the words out she was gone and rushing to their room at the inn. "Teenagers." 

Rielah looked over her shoulder as she opened the door to their room, making sure no one had followed her and holding the dagger Geralt had given her for emergencies close to her chest. When she was inside the room safely, she locked the door quickly- debating on whether or not to push something in front of it. She decided against it, realizing she didn't want Geralt to question her motives as to why. She knew she'd been acting odd since they got here but this was the place she was born. She didn't want to run into her father; she'd heard some of the townspeople mentioning his name in passing and felt her blood run cold. 

Geralt knew she was from around this general area, they'd met in a rundown castle where the Striga resided and they traveled on from there never really discussing her past unless it was about her mother. Even that was rare though. Their relationship didn't offer much speaking, sure he spoke to her more than most but they were both quiet natured people so it worked out. Most of their communication existed by body language. A raised eyebrow typically asked if one was okay and a gentle hand on the back told the other they were there. 

After drawing the blinds and doing all the other precautionary measures Geralt had instilled from a young age she sat down on the bed and waited for Geralt's return. She felt as if she wouldn't get much sleep this night and decided to read one of the novels they had picked up for her on their adventures. Geralt realized she would need some form of entertainment while he was away on his hunts and taught her to read. It was an easy way for her to pass the time. 

Hours passed and Rielah set down her book bored. She knew she should go to bed but she didn't want to let down her guard down if Geralt wasn't there. Part of her felt like her father had been watching them ever since they arrived. The scars he had left on her both physically and mentally from when she was a child were still left littering her thoughts and skin. She heard the doorknob begin to twist and sat up straight. Logic told her it was just Geralt seeing as she had locked it and he had the only key, but fear told her it was her biological father. 

The door opened, daylight seeping in behind it and Geralt stepped in covered in the guts of a Selkimore and she wrinkled her nose. "You've got something right-" She hesitated before gesturing to his body "everywhere actually, and you smell."

"Nice to see you too Rielah." Geralt said with a grunt before walking to the tub full of bathwater. She scrunched her nose once more and turned around to give him so privacy. "There's some Oren's in my pouch. Go get some food we can eat in between villages and whatever else you'd like. I'll meet you out when I'm clean."

Rielah nodded, gulping slightly. She hadn't been alone here without Geralt other than last night in the room. This was different though, being in the village would be putting her into a vulnerable position if she ran into her father. Grabbing Geralt's pouch out of the saddle bag she grabbed her black cloak and pulled up the hood over her head. She walked through the village, remaining as unnoticeable as possible until she found a man selling bread and cheeses. 

"How much for two loafs?" She asked. Bread typically got them a long way on the road. They could pair it with meat Geralt hunted and eat it alone. 

"10 Oren" The man grumbled and she fished it out of her pocket, not letting the man how much she actually had in case he tried to raise the prices. She took the loafs of her choosing and handed the man the money. He took it and shoved it into his own pocket.

Turning around she noticed a woman selling some clothes. She thought back to Geralt coming back drenched in the Selkimore guts and blood and decided he'd probably need a new shirt. She saw a black long sleeve shirt and decided that one would do. Next to it she saw a handmade necklace with a purple stone attached to it. She knew she'd never be able to afford it but it was pretty to look at. 

"It's a pretty gem." A man said from beside her causing her to jump. 

"Yes, it is." She said backing away cautiously. 

"Suitable for a girl like you." The man spoke. "Maybe to draw attention away from that ugly scar _Rielah_." Her blood ran cold at the usage of her name and her eyes grew wide. Geralt was the only one who should know her name here. She tried not to show it, but she was petrified. There was no need to guess who this man was, it was her father. The man she'd been doing her best to avoid. "I've been waiting for you to show your face. Without that dastardly Witcher."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She told him playing dumb attempting to make her voice sound as normal and unwavering as possible. "I really should be on my way my f-" 

"Your father?" He sneered coldly. "You're right I have been looking for you. Ever since you ran off a decade ago you little shit. It's time you return home."

The man grabbed her wrist and jerked it harshly. At that moment, the hood of her cloak fell off revealing her face. More importantly though, it revealed the scar he had left many years ago. It had healed nicely over the years but there was still a thin white line from the mark he had made. Looking at the girls face and the fear showing in her hazel eyes. She felt herself retreating to the tiny young child terrified of her father. The one before Geralt; who taught her that a father is supposed to love their daughter unconditionally even when they make it hard. Not beat them for no reason. 

"Sir-" Rielah spoke trying to jerk her hand away from her father only for his grip to get tighter. "I really must get going." 

"Theres really no denying it now Rielah." The man sneered. She didn't even know her fathers name. What kind of a father did that make him? "You've been gone for a long time, but I'd know that scar from anywhere. I oughta give you another one for being away for so long with that damn Witcher."

"Rielah!" A deep voice called out and her head whipped around, golden tufts of hair getting in her face as she noticed Geralt making his way through the crowd. 

"Geralt!" She shrieked watching as he looked back and forth for the teenager. "Daddy!" 

That was enough to get Geralt's heart pounding in his ears. The girl he cared for was shrieking his name in fear. Pushing through the crowd he spotted her golden hair, getting closer he noticed a man holding her wrist in a death grip. 

"Quiet girl." He heard the man grunt as he tried to get her to budge and walk. 

He reached around to his back where his sword was kept and drew it upon the man. "Get your hands off of her." 

Noticing the sword, Rielah's birth father let go of her hand and she let tears fall as she ran behind her true father; Geralt who ushered her directly behind him. 

"I believe you have what's mine _Witcher_ " The man sneered. "You took my daughter from me, cost me nearly a fortune to replace her hands at the fields. I bet you killed my wife too." 

"Your wife was killed protecting Rielah, who is no longer your daughter and hasn't been since the moment you first laid a hand on her." Geralt gritted out. "If all you're worried about is the profit she can bring you in the fields you're a sorry excuse of a father." Geralt said pressing his sword closer to the man's neck. "She's been my daughter for the past decade, and if you lay a hand on her ever again it will be the last time you touch anything." The man glared at her from her place behind the silver-haired Witcher and she shuddered underneath his gaze. "I suggest you move along."

Spitting on the pair, Rielah's father turned around and walked off and Rielah let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "So that's why you wanted to come on the hunt. This is your home." 

Guiltily, Rielah nodded and Geralt clasped a hand on her shoulder. "I wanted to tell you, but-"

"You don't need to explain yourself little one." Geralt said fixing the girls cloak and stroking a piece of hair behind her ear. "I see no need to return to this disgusting place anyways." 

"Thank you Geralt." She said wrapping him in a hug. Rarely did they ever show physical affection to another but she felt like a hug was in order. Geralt was tense but eventually let down his guard and hugged the girl back."You've always been my father." 

"You've been my daughter for a long time Rielah," He told her as they began to walk to Roach. He helped her up before getting on behind her. "That man has never been your father, and I'll never hesitate to protect you and I sure as hell will never lay a hand on you." 

She nodded, grabbing Roach's reigns and leaning back against Geralt to steady herself as they left the girls hometown. As they left, she didn't look back once knowing that place was never her home. Her home had always been on the road with Geralt and Roach. He'd always been her father. He'd been the one to raise her, teach her, feed her. Everything about him was what a father should be doing for their daughter.

"I love you Geralt." She whispered quietly.

"Hmmm." He grunted refraining towards their usual silence on the road. She knew that was his way of saying it back, it was their language. He knew her better than she knew herself at times. She stared at the road ahead, wondering where it would take them next.


End file.
